Pawns of the Queen
by Cheezey
Summary: Follows on the heels of the events in "Necessary Masque". Queen Merla is not idle in the maelstrom Lotor has stirred up, and pays a visit to planet Drule.


_**Pawns of the Queen**_

**By Cheezey**

Three golden goblets rose to a toast of victory amidst smiles and laughter in a plush conference room on planet Drule. Though the world itself was in chaos, rumors of its impending demise running rampant through its populace, none of that concern was evident in any of the faces of the esteemed politicians gathered in that chamber within the emperor's palace. Instead, Viceroy Throk, Marshal Keezor, and their guest, Queen Merla of the Seventh Kingdom of the Drule Empire and newly wed wife to King Zarkon of the Ninth Kingdom were in high spirits indeed.

"At least that's one irksome Voltron out of the empire's hair for good," Throk cackled after taking a drink. "You tell your husband that he and his bungling son finally did something right for once."

"A pilot executed, a pilot married off, and all but one of the lions out of the way. Not bad." Keezor set his goblet down.

Merla smiled back at them pleasantly, not showing even the slightest hint of regret or insult at her peers' statements. It was part sincere and part show, for Merla _had_ felt a stab of guilt when she witnessed Hunk's execution given how the Voltron Force had helped her in the past, but as far as she was concerned, his unfortunate fate had been put out of her hands as soon as it had been placed in Lotor's. Merla also felt for Princess Allura, knowing how that ugly turn of events must have cut her, but the girl would have to learn sooner or later that the universe was not a nice place and that was something she was better off coming to terms with now and getting it over with. Allura had given up any chance at a future with flowers and rainbows when she chose to marry Lotor knowing the kind of man he was. Merla could empathize, having been burned by Lotor in the past, but her sympathy only ran so far. She had her own matters and ambitions to attend to, after all.

Merla traced the rim of her goblet as she responded to her hosts. "Now if only you could rid yourself of the Voltron on the Explorer, the people of Drule could finally relocate without incident, and the empire would have double the cause for celebration."

Keezor's expression clouded for a moment, but only briefly. "Well, now that we've got that fool Hazar out of command and out of the council's ear, things should go a lot better."

"I wonder how he's enjoying it out there on Dreska," Throk added with a chuckle. "I hear the meteor showers and radiation are particularly unpleasant this time of year."

Merla ignored another unwanted bit of sympathy that surfaced, that time for the Drule commander who had recently fallen out of favor with his peers. Hazar had offered her his support when she had her short-lived emotional crisis in the aftermath of Lotor's betrayal, when she had considered changing her politics to be more in line with Hazar's, thinking it best to try to make peace with the Alliance and eschew some of the "evil" aspects of Drule Empire culture. She realized now that her actions then had been a knee-jerk reaction to being hurt by Lotor and benefiting from the altruism of the Voltron Force. Though she still thought well of them for their kindness toward her, introspection had led her to realize she had been melodramatic and that deep down, living their lifestyle was not and would never be enough for a woman who was used to being a powerful queen and conqueror. Her more recent actions, most notably her impromptu political marriage to Zarkon, reflected her clearer thinking, but a lingering fondness for the Voltron Force and Hazar remained. She knew that conflict with them was inevitable, but still she did not wish them ill, not like the men she dined with did. If she had her way, they would simply stay out of the way of her and the empire's ambitions and live out their lives happily apart from it all.

"I should stop and chat with him before I head back to Doom," Merla mused thoughtfully. "I saw that he wasn't stripped of all command or thrown in a dungeon. Emperor Zeppo and the council must feel he still has some redeeming qualities."

Throk snorted dubiously. "More like they threw Mozak a bone."

"His family's station is too high to completely alienate," Keezor agreed. "Mozak could easily rile up trouble for the Council if pushed too far."

"I wonder if they'd feel that way if we had proof that they had ties to the resistance." Throk's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You can't tell me they aren't in the thick of it. Especially that pretty little sister of Hazar's."

Merla cast Throk a sly look. "Why Viceroy, that almost sounds personal. How well _do _you know Mozak's daughter?"

"Well enough to know she's trouble," the viceroy retorted before flashing Merla a charming smile. "Although if I had my choice, I'd much rather spend time with a lady such as yourself, who's both attractive and understands and appreciates all that we do for the empire."

Merla returned his flirtatious look with one of her own. "I'm sure you do. And when I tell Zarkon how much you approve of his victory over Arus and Voltron, I'll also tell him how much you commend his taste in women."

That led Keezor to chuckle, and did not faze Throk in the least. "You do impress me, Merla, and I have to concede that the old goat on Doom must have some good tricks up his sleeve to land a catch like you. I didn't think he had it in him."

"Oooh, that was almost a complement for my dear husband," Merla said playfully. "Now I'm the one who's surprised."

"You aren't the only one," Keezor quipped, and took another drink from his goblet. "I never thought I'd see the day Throk here had anything nice to say about Zarkon of Doom."

"I'm full of surprises." Throk tipped his goblet and leered at Merla in a way that made the double entendre of his statement clear.

"So you are." Merla leaned forward as if to encourage him, and then stood abruptly, looking down at him from a standing position that accentuated her enviable figure from his point of view. "But I'm sure Larchella would appreciate having more of those to herself," she finished with a wink, naming the viceroy's wife.

If the rebuff bothered Throk, he did not show it. He too rose to his feet, and a moment later Marshal Keezor did the same. "So this concludes your visit to us here on Drule, then?" Throk asked.

Merla gave a slight nod. "Regrettably. I did enjoy the extra time to chat with you two boys after the council session, though. And I'm certainly pleased that winning the Arus war was received as well by the Emperor and the council as Zarkon and I hoped."

"Our faith in the continued competent leadership of both the Seventh and Ninth Kingdoms is cemented," Keezor told Merla, and bowed to her respectfully. "It was our pleasure to have you visit us. Do come again soon. You're much more personable company than your husband—though he does throw a good party when we're out that way, I will say."

"I'll give him your regards then, Marshal, and perhaps ask him to host a little soiree sometime soon."

"And be sure to give Zarkon's son and his conquered Arusian bride our regards as well," Throk added, taking Merla's hand in turn. "I trust you'll make sure she understands her place, and how far she can and can't push the empire?" He raised a brow. "I'm not so sure about the prince either. He seems a little too easily distracted by a pretty face."

Smirking, Merla leaned over and planted a light smooch on the viceroy's cheek. "Takes one to know one, hmm?" she teased before resuming a serious tone. "Princess Allura won't be a problem. We'll see to that. She's a hopelessly naïve and headstrong girl, but her heart is on her sleeve. I'll have no problem guiding her as need be."

Marshal Keezor nodded in approval. "Good. Perhaps we'll send a representative of our interests out to Arus in the near future then. I hear it's a nice little world rich in resources. Some of our displaced people may do well making a home there in the future."

"Perhaps so. It's much nicer than Dreska at any rate."

"Speaking of which," Throk said, eyeing the queen intently, "are you on your way now to pay our friend Hazar a visit?"

"Yes," Merla answered. "There are a few things I'd like to discuss with him in person."

The viceroy and marshal exchanged looks. "The ride to Dreska can be treacherous. Why don't we send one of our captains out to escort you?" suggested Throk.

Merla raised a brow in suspicion. "Your hospitality is a nice gesture, but my star cutter can easily navigate meteor showers and the odd cosmic anomaly without a problem." She paused. "I'd hate to think that you fine gentlemen would be suggesting that a Drule Empire queen, one who's conquered countless worlds, can't handle herself?"

The challenge in her tone was not lost on the pair. "Of course not," Throk replied, offering her a conciliatory smile. "But the activity in that sector is a little intense as of late. One of our captains could show you the shortcuts through it to make it that much faster for you without putting any dings in the hull of that nice ship of yours," he covered in place of the truth, which was that neither he nor Keezor completely trusted the Seventh Kingdom queen, her husband, or the ousted commander she was about to visit—especially since there was no love lost between them and either man.

"I see." The queen's azure lips pursed in consideration. Her mind powers were not needed to sense her hosts' distrust, although they did allow her to discern the details of it. She found it insulting that they wanted to send a spy, but she also supposed that humoring them would quiet any lingering grumblings of unrest among the council. She had nothing planned that was best left kept from the emperor's inner circle anyhow. After a long moment she said, "Well, if you're _that_ concerned, I'll take you up on your offer."

Keezor and Throk both relaxed. "Wonderful. I'll have Captain Laro sent out immediately," Keezor said, and reached for his communicator.

"Wait a moment," Merla interrupted. "What about that female captain that was present earlier?"

"Twila?" asked Throk. "What about her?"

"Is she available?"

"Any of our captains or commanders are available if we give the order," Keezor stated haughtily.

The queen smiled. "I would like her, then."

Throk eyed Merla curiously. "Any particular reason, or do you just want girl chat for your trip?"

"Something like that." The truth was that Merla did not trust anyone that was the viceroy or marshal's first pick, male or female, but given the choice she did prefer the social company of other women. There was a reason she did not allow men on her sanctuary home world of Eshai, after all.

"Very well then. Captain Twila it is," Keezor said, and relayed the order through his communicator.

A short while later Merla was aboard her star cutter en route to Dreska with the Drule captain Twila at her side. "Thank you again for allowing me to escort you, Queen Merla," Twila told her earnestly. "It's an honor to serve one of the reigning kingdom leaders personally. I'll make sure your ship gets to Dreska without a scratch."

"You're very welcome," Merla replied as she gave the order to take off. "And I've got every confidence in your abilities, Captain."

Twila smiled back at the queen, her pride and gratitude both genuine. Merla could tell without reading her mind that she had an avid admirer in Captain Twila, who she was able to get a sense of as being an ambitious and fierce soldier, both capable in battle and eager to prove herself. Merla was used to such attention, for many a strong woman in the Drule Empire heralded her as a role model, and the queen's ego basked in the admiration. From what she could glean from Twila's thoughts, she was a relatively uncomplicated and straightforward type, and she did not detect any duplicitous motivations from her. _Good. Perhaps it is I that can use her,_ Merla mused as they headed toward Dreska. _The council may have her here to report on me, but when that little task is done I'll have someone close to the council willing to give _me _reports._

"Marshal Keezor told me that you're familiar with this quadrant, Captain," Merla said.

Twila turned from instructing the dwarflings at the helm to tweak their heading to face the queen addressing her. "Yes. I was out here not long ago serving under Commander Hazar when he was first put out here." She frowned slightly as she spoke, which did not go unnoticed by Merla.

"It wasn't your choice of a mission, I take it?"

With a gentle shake of her head, Twila replied in a low tone and carefully chosen words. "Not exactly. My time out here didn't go well. They sent me out to deal with Voltron. Not yours, the one on the Explorer," she clarified when she realized that the Voltron that would spring to mind for Merla was likely not the one she was talking about. "It was a disaster. I thought it'd be a good chance to prove I'm not just a good scientist, but also a good strategist, but…" She turned away and ran a hand through her short blue hair. "Like I said, it didn't work out so well."

Telepathically Merla heard the thoughts Twila left unsaid, jumbled and raw as they were, and found the insight most useful, if not sad in a way or two that led the queen to empathize with the captain. Twila had apparently been injured and taken aboard the other Voltron Force's ship and then escaped, intent on proving herself, only to suffer a painful defeat in battle. The name Bardo echoed balefully in the woman's thoughts, leading Merla to the conclusion that this other captain had been more than just a co-worker to her and that he had not survived the skirmish. Merla also picked up on a bitter undercurrent of resentment, a sense that Twila felt underappreciated and held back in her career because she was a female. That Merla certainly could understand being angry about; it was no secret that some of the worlds in the Drule Empire had more rigid roles for women and men, and the home world held strongly defined expectations for the sexes. Merla decided then that if the captain proved to be a good ally then she would see to it that she was recognized, rewarded, and promoted. Nepotism was hardly rare in the empire anyway, so someone Merla found worthy might as well benefit from it.

"Run-ins with a Voltron rarely go well." Merla gave her an understanding smile. "And I had no idea you were a scientist. What's your area of expertise?"

The queen's flattery and interest led Twila to brighten. "Planetary biology. A lot of my service has been devoted to trying to find suitable worlds for relocation, and my early studies were on Drule itself." A wistful smile played across her features. "Mostly on what went wrong, and why we're too late to save it."

"It is a shame," Merla agreed with sincere regret. "A world that would serve as a New Drule would be ideal for the empire. Though the Drules are welcome on any world in the empire, I know it's not the same as having a true home."

"It isn't," Twila agreed with a nod. "Established worlds have their own cultures. A wild world, ready to be tamed and shaped, is what Drule needs. Not one where we have to assimilate."

"Reminds me of when I took over Eshai and made it my home, my sanctuary," Merla said, thinking of her remote castle atop the mountains in the forested moon that she called home. It was a place she made for herself as opposed to the family one she ruled officially from back on Myrlon, the seat of the Seventh Kingdom, or Castle Doom. Although the latter was where she now lived primarily, it would still never be _home_.

Watching the stars on the ship's monitor, Twila remarked, "I haven't been to Eshai. I heard it's lovely though. Is it true that some of the wildlife has extrasensory abilities?"

"Yes. My vulture here is native to Eshai and communicates to me as clearly as if he could speak like we do." She petted the otherwise quiet creature perched on her seat gently on the head. "You should go there sometime. You'd love it. Fabulous scenery, exquisite spas, and all the creature comforts a girl could want in the peace and quiet."

"I've actually wanted to visit it sometime, but my last couple rec leaves have been, well," she looked aside sheepishly before meeting Merla's gaze, "well I had a—a friend with me. A close friend. A male. So Eshai was off the agenda." Merla heard the name _Bardo_ echo in the woman's thoughts again, before Twila went back over to the monitor to ensure they were still on course.

Her curiosity got the better of her and Merla could no longer resist asking. "Captain, if you don't mind me asking… who is Bardo?"

Twila whirled around and faced Merla with a rattled look. "Your majesty?" she repeated, her voice barely above a stammer. _Did I say his name out loud and not realize it?_

"No my dear, you didn't," Merla confirmed aloud, much to the now even more startled Twila's surprise. "I'm Myrlonian. Like the birds of Eshai, many of us have telepathic abilities, and it's very strong in the royal line. In fact, my mind powers are among the strongest on record." She smiled with pride. "And please, call me Queen Merla. I prefer to be on more familiar terms. We're friends here after all, are we not, Captain Twila?"

The captain nodded. "Of course, Queen Merla."

"Besides, I like you. From what you say and what you don't, I can tell you're a fine representative of what the Drules' military has to offer. I daresay Keezor and Throk made a mistake when they initially suggested someone else for this mission."

An almost imperceptible frown crept across Twila's features, although it was clear she was making an effort to keep her façade impassive. "They did? Who—I mean, if you don't mind me asking, Queen Merla…" She paused until Merla acknowledged with a nod, and then continued, "Who did they suggest?"

"A Captain Laro, I believe? Do you know him?"

"Yes." Twila tried to hide the sting to her pride from learning she had not been her leaders' choice for the mission. When she had first received the order, she had been elated. Escorting a Drule monarch was a responsibility entrusted to only highly regarded officers, and Twila had believed that finally her contributions to the empire were being recognized by the powers that be. Hearing what Merla had just told her, however, she now wondered if she was just the second best choice, and why. Had Laro turned it down? Why had they picked him over her? Because they thought he was better because he was male? Their service records were comparable, and Twila even had the edge of being more familiar with that quadrant's galactic terrain.

Merla heard Twila's sour thoughts but did not mention them. They were useful enough to her unacknowledged, and now she knew just how to proceed to win Twila her firmly into her camp. "Ah, well I don't really know him, as he didn't stand out to me at the council, unlike you. Being a mind-reader has its advantages, and unlike some one-track-minded men that place a woman's primary importance on bedroom performance, I could tell your star was on the rise right off the bat." She smiled warmly at Twila. "I requested you specifically."

That news softened the blow Twila's ego had taken considerably. Hearing that Queen Merla of the Seventh Kingdom, who she admired so much, had chosen her personally set her positively aglow. She bowed gratefully before her. "Thank you so much! I'm honored, even more so than before. I had no idea."

"You're most welcome." Merla gestured for her to come to her side. "Besides, sometimes it takes a woman to truly understand another, don't you think?"

Twila let out a small and uncertain laugh as she joined her side at the command chair. "I don't know. There aren't too many women soldiers on Drule, except medics or field scientists, which is where I started. Not up in command though. Pretty much all of my friends are guys." She rested her hand on the arm of the console. "At least the ones that aren't constantly trying to get in my pants."

"Oh, the story of the universe, isn't it?" Merla quipped. "You can travel to a thousand galaxies and it's the same all over. Find one that wants to be your friend and isn't trying to get into your bedchamber, and nine times out of ten, he's gay."

Smiling in tandem with her, Twila said, "Yeah, though they're not all that bad, even if it is mostly true." She looked back at the view screen for a moment, just as much to check on their flight status as she did to hide the telltale sparkle in her eyes as she thought about the individual she had made the exception for.

"Captain Twila," Merla said softly, but with an alluring command that brought Twila quickly back to her attention, "would you like to tell me about him?"

Twila blinked in the queen's intense stare, unaware of how her mental powers had drawn her in but feeling their pull regardless. "Well… it'd probably be pretty boring to someone like you, Queen Merla. I'm sure things are much more exciting on Doom's court. I'm just a Drule officer. You must meet way more fascinating people higher up the food chain than a soldier like me, especially at a place like Doom."

"Try me," Merla encouraged, leaning closer to foster a sense of intimacy. "Besides, these space flights get dreadfully dull without personal stories to share along the way. And frankly, you're one of the few on Drule who _doesn't _drone on and on about themselves. It's a nice change from some of those council members." She made a face. "I don't know how Nerok's wife stands him."

"By spending most of her time on a vacation planet," Twila retorted. "I know if I was married to him, I'd be asking my superiors for double duty. Luckily I don't have that problem."

"Oh? Are you married?"

Twila shook her head. "Not really."

The odd answer intrigued Merla, and she gave Twila an inquisitive look.

"I'm betrothed," the captain explained. "Our families have had it set up since I was six. You know how it is, ironclad and signed and sealed, to the mutual benefit of both our families and their property holdings. The ceremony's basically a formality at this point. We'd both be disowned if we didn't do it, but that doesn't mean I can't put it off until I've gotten as far as I want to in my work. He's okay with that, though. He's got his girlfriends to keep him entertained." She shrugged.

Merla lifted an eyebrow. "And this Bardo…"

"Isn't him, no." Twila looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Bardo was a—a very good friend." She sighed. "I hate Voltron for what they did to him. He'd have torn every pilot in that crazy conglomeration of ships into pieces if I'd been the one killed in that explosion. And someday I'll do him the same honor, or as close to it as I can come." Her voice grew thick with emotion.

Merla put her hand on top of Twila's where it rested on the command chair. "I can tell how much he meant to you."

Twila looked up at her with an almost haunted expression. _Can you really?_ Her thoughts were anxious in their turbulence, as they were projecting with force feelings that she desperately tried to keep buried.

"Yes I can," Merla said in a voice low enough that only the two of them, and not any of the dwarflings or robots at the console, could hear. "You think that falling in love with him made you weak, but a feeling that strong can't be denied."

The captain looked away. "It was stupid. At least if I felt that way about Garrow there'd be a reason for getting involved with another officer."

"Ah, so Captain Garrow is your fiancé? The cocky blond?" Twila nodded, and Merla pressed on. "So Bardo wasn't like him, then?"

Twila bit her lip. "I didn't say it was Bardo."

With a knowing smile Merla replied, "Not in so many words."

"Bardo had a wife and two children with her," Twila said in a very low tone. "They were estranged, and there was all kinds of bad blood between them, but still." She closed her eyes. "He was good to his kids. We shouldn't have taken things as far as we did." Unwanted tears welled up in her red eyes that she fought fiercely to contain. "I told him it was a bad idea. But we just couldn't help falling… we were just…" Her voice trailed off as she realized how much she was talking about something so personal that she was generally loath to talk about at all. "…just stupid." She looked away.

"Love makes fools of us all, queens and captains alike, Twila dear." Merla squeezed her hand in a show of sympathy. "Look at my dear stepdaughter-in-law, for instance." She let out a cynical laugh. "Or look at me."

"I can't imagine a man getting the better of someone like you, Queen Merla."

Merla's vulture nudged at the side of her head, and she reached up absently to pet him again. "Hard to believe, my dear, but yes, it's happened. But in the end, I got him back." She smirked as she recalled how much fun it had been to taunt Lotor both when he languished in the Galaxy Alliance prison, at his trial, and later on when she revealed that she had married his father, pushing the throne he wanted so badly that much farther from his reach.

The sound of an alarm on the bridge interrupted the remainder of their conversation, and Twila hurried over to the console. It turned out to be just a warning that they were approaching a meteor storm, but it required enough attention from the captain that their socializing was put to an end for the time being. Much of the rest of the ride to Dreska was spent that way, as they had to navigate around some gravitational anomalies after that, and by the time they had cleared the worst of it all, the sphere of Dreska was already visible in their monitors.

"It shouldn't be long now, Queen Merla," Twila called over to her. "The dwarflings have already sent word out to Commander Hazar that we're here."

"Excellent." Merla watched the small and barren world grow closer on the view screen and wondered what sort of greeting awaited her in Hazar's quarters.

* * *

Whatever Merla had expected when she walked into the room where Hazar agreed to meet her, it was not for him to be staring out a window at falling meteors, refusing to even turn around to say a formal hello. As a Drule kingdom queen, protocol dictated that Hazar should not only have received her warmly, but greeted her with a formal bow given the differences in their station. However, Hazar now had a reputation for defying the empire's protocol, so while Merla was irritated by the lack of respect, she supposed that she should not have been surprised by it.

"Hello Hazar," she said loudly, stepping into the room while the commander's guards pulled the doors shut behind her so that they were alone. "It's nice to see you too."

"Why are you here, Queen Merla?" Even then he did not turn around.

Since Hazar refused to go to her, Merla instead went to him, joining his side at the window. "Are the falling stars really that fascinating out here? I thought they were as regular as a sunrise on a desert world in this place."

Her sarcasm finally led him to acknowledge her, and he turned toward the visiting queen with an impassive, if not disappointed look. "You didn't answer my question, your majesty."

"I came to see you," Merla informed him in a mildly huffy tone. "I thought when we last spoke that we parted on good terms. Was I mistaken?"

The Drule's eyes narrowed. "No, it seems that I was. I thought I'd found a like-minded ally in you, Merla. Someone who wanted to see these fruitless wars between our empire and the Alliance ended once and for all. You said that you'd seen qualities you liked in the Voltron Force of Arus, and that maybe there was a chance we could find enough in common with those in the Alliance to further all our goals without wasting our energies fighting at every step." His crimson eyes burned with betrayal and accusation. "And then five minutes later, you go and marry Zarkon of Doom, head of one of the most shamelessly ambitious and bloodthirsty monarchies in the empire. Why?"

Merla returned Hazar's hard look with one in kind, and glowered at him with an air of superiority. "I'm a queen of equal station to Zarkon and the seat of the Seventh Kingdom, Commander. I certainly don't have to justify my choices to the likes of you, all but an outcast and exile from Drule, and someone ranking only slightly above radioactive waste on the council's approval scale."

"My apologies then, your majesty," Hazar replied evenly, his voice thick as he enunciated her title. "Thank you for reminding me of my station. I'd almost forgotten with all there is for me to do and command out here."

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Hazar." Merla gestured to the plush seats in the room. "Shall we sit and talk?"

The commander only nodded and took a seat, and Merla followed suit. "Now that we've straightened out that bit of unpleasantness," she said in a more amiable tone, "why don't we talk as the friends I thought we were?"

"A friend is someone I can trust, Merla. I'd like to call you one, but I have trouble trusting anyone who can go from hating Prince Lotor and befriending Arus' Voltron Force one day, to marrying Lotor's father and representing Doom to the council while they go and execute one of your Voltron Force friends the next."

"My alliance with Zarkon has nothing to do with you or anything personal against the Alliance."

"Nothing personal?" Hazar repeated dubiously. "I wonder if the Voltron Force would agree with you."

Merla frowned. "What happened to Hunk is… regrettable." She pushed aside an unwelcome pang of guilt that stabbed within her, and met Hazar's accusatory look with a pointed one of her own. "It didn't please me, nor did Lotor's assault on Pollux."

"Really." Hazar's disbelief was obvious, even without use of her mind powers.

"But I can't argue that the measures weren't necessary," Merla argued, irked by the outcast commander's judgmental attitude. "Doom has to prove that it's not to be trifled with, or others will question our power."

"And we can't have Zarkon losing power, now can we?" Hazar retorted, lapsing into a sarcastic tone again. "He's got planets full of resources to waste, thousands of slave mouths to feed, and empire taxes to evade with bribes and promises of parties, lazon, and robeasts to keep, after all. A fine ruler of the empire like that, who can't even be bothered to help in the search and relocation efforts for the home world is _exactly_ the type we ought to keep in high regard." As he spoke Merla's frown wore deeper, and she opened her mouth to voice a snappy retort, but Hazar cut her off before she could. "Why, Merla? Why did you turn your back to the promise of peace with the Alliance for him?"

"Because unlike you, I figured out fast that crusading for peace between the Drule Empire and the Galaxy Alliance is a fool's errand," she snapped back at him. "What makes you think it can ever work? Ambition and dominance are at the core of every Drule and Drule-blood culture in the universe. None of us want peace on their terms. It's a nice pipe dream, until you think about what it means. Do you think that I, your emperor, or the other rulers want to give up all we've worked for all our lives to let a bunch of self-righteous humans tell us how to live on terms they call fair? Do you think that they're any more 'noble' than we are, living some idealistic, harmonious existence where they all share and play nicely?"

Hazar shook his head. "You don't get it. It's not about the Drule rulers or the council, it's about the people of Drule and the citizens of the empire. Do you think the Drule commoners like living in fear, wondering whether this quake will be the one that destroys their home or they'll have another week? Do you think they like knowing that they have to decide when to give up their home and live on a ship or try to fit in on another world, while our leaders play war games with the Alliance rather than find them a new world to live on?" He leaned forward, an inner fire burning in his eyes as he continued. "Do you think the citizens of Drule and the empire's other planets like sending their sons and daughters out on ships to fight in these petty battles knowing there's a good chance they'll never come home, or come back in a coffin? There's more at stake than your, Zarkon's, the other monarchs,' and the emperor's ambitions, Queen Merla. I thought _you_ understood _that_."

"Don't you dare put words in my mouth, Commander," Merla replied icily. "And don't presume to know my motivations. Like I said, I don't have to justify them to you or anyone else." She waved a manicured fingertip at him. "I may not have swung to your extreme in politics, but I'm not unsympathetic to the citizens of Drule or the empire. Marrying Zarkon doesn't mean I forgot the harsh lessons that Lotor's betrayal and the Voltron Force's generosity taught me. I'd rather not see anyone suffer needlessly, but I'm not foolish enough to believe that the universe will work that way. Given the choice, I see the importance of taking care of myself and my own. The council feels the same—toward them and their people. If the Alliance won't back down and stay out of our way while we try to do what's best for our own people, obviously they don't care much for our plight, at least not above and beyond their own. Why should we lie down and give them any advantages?"

She sat back and crossed her legs primly, regaining her composure as the acid left her voice. "You'd be wise not to write me off and alienate me, Hazar. You may not like Zarkon, but you ought to respect him. He has great resources at his disposal, and motivated properly, he could and would do a great deal of benefit for the empire. Take Arus for instance. One less Voltron means unimpeded exploration in that quadrant for your scientists and a friendly world for them to work from."

"Yes, and at what cost? If we'd made peace with Arus' Voltron, their people could've used that technology to help find worlds for both sides."

"And while the bureaucrats negotiate all that, Drule and its people go up in a ball of flame waiting for the paperwork to be signed. Your world doesn't have the time for the inaction and waffling of politicians. It's rather sad that I can see that and you, who claim to care so much, don't." She rose to her feet and let out a laborious sigh. "But even without my telepathic powers I can tell that you're not going to change your mind, and there'd be no point in my changing it for you, much as some of your superiors would thank me for it." She shook her head, her pink braid swaying as she did so. "I'll show myself out. Give what I said some thought, Commander. Despite your pigheadedness, I still do respect you. Consider yourself lucky—I'm probably one of the only rulers left in the empire that does." Without waiting for a reply, Merla then sauntered out, leaving Hazar to return to his introspective meteor-watching.

* * *

When she returned to her star cutter, Merla found Captain Twila waiting there with her crew. The Drule captain bowed politely to the queen as she approached. "All finished with Commander Hazar, Queen Merla?"

"Yes, I think I'm done with him."

Twila caught the sarcastic lilt in the queen's tone, but chose not to comment on it. She had a fairly good idea what inspired it, as Merla was far from the first high-ranking empire affiliate to leave Hazar's chambers in such a mood. "So does this mean you'll be leaving our corner of the empire to head home now?"

Merla nodded. "After all that hot air, the rains of Doom would do me good." She extended a gracious hand to the captain. "Thank you for your delightful company on the trip out here."

Twila accepted Merla's handshake, but gave a reply that the queen was not expecting. "You're welcome, but actually, I'll be going along with you."

"Oh?" Merla's brow arched. "Don't tell me they're too cheap to spring for a ship and enough lazon to get you back to Drule from here?"

"No, nothing like that, Queen Merla," Twila answered. "Actually while you were talking with Commander Hazar, I received orders from Marshal Keezor to accompany you back to Doom, and from there request a transport to Arus."

"To Arus," Merla repeated. Her irritation was obvious, although she had the class to not take it out on Twila, as she sensed nothing insincere in her words.

"Yes. I was asked to give an objective report on the situation on the world itself—if the terms of King Zarkon's treaty are being honored, if there are any signs of rebellion or trouble, that sort of thing. They also want a tentative report of how many Drule refugees could be put up there on a short-term living basis if need be."

Merla doubted that the Drules' request was as innocuous as Twila's message made it seem, but she knew that if she refused she would only be whacking a proverbial hornet's nest politically. The empire's nosiness was irritating and insulting, but denying them would only lead them to send covert spies in greater number and with more frequency. "I see," she said. "Very well then. Come aboard. I'll put your familiarity with this region to use in steering my star-cutter past all the cosmic debris again, and use the trip back to catch up on my beauty rest."

"Of course, Queen Merla. I'd be happy to," Twila said, and boarded the ship with her.

* * *

When they reached Doom, King Zarkon was already aware that Merla was bringing a Drule captain back with her. During the flight she had contacted him privately to let him know, and much like his pink-haired bride, he too was irked at the Drules' presumptuousness in sticking their purple noses in where they were not needed or wanted.

"Throk wants to show me up, that's it," he groused while he sat on his golden throne. "He's jealous that I've bested one of those Voltrons before he did, and he wants to find some way to discredit me since kissing Zeppo's ass ten times a Drule day isn't cutting it anymore with all the failures he and his forces have racked up against the Explorer's Voltron. We'll I've got an ass for him to kiss—_mine_."

Hearing only the tail end of the king's mutterings as he entered the throne room responding to a summons he had received from him a short while ago, Commander Cossack asked, "Who do you want kissing your ass, Sire?"

"Not you," Zarkon snapped at the commander who now bowed before him. "Not today, anyway. I called you and Lotor here to let you know that Merla's back, and with company. Where is he, anyway?"

"Right here, Father," Lotor's voice boomed from the doorway. Princess Allura was at his side wearing an impassive expression and the ruffled pink dress that she had worn frequently back on Arus. Although the prince had ordered tailors to create a wardrobe to her liking for her on Doom, she still felt the most comfortable in her favorite clothing, and was comforted in a small way in the notion of keeping a part of herself uncompromised by Doom's influence. Lotor, meanwhile, was dressed in the usual blue garb that he wore for both political meetings and battle, although he carried his helmet instead of wearing it. "So what guest is Merla bringing?"

Zarkon waited for Lotor and Allura to reach the foot of the throne beside Cossack before he answered. "A Drule captain named Twila. Apparently Throk and Keezor want to see for themselves that we've conquered Arus and put Voltron out of commission, so they sent a lackey to verify it."

The otherwise silent Allura frowned and spoke up. "You mean _allied_ with Arus. It's a citizen world, not a conquered one."

Taking pleasure in the princess' displeasure, Zarkon waved her off with nonchalance. "Wording quibbles. Regardless, Arus isn't a threat any longer, and they're under our control on peaceful terms, just like Merla told them. I'm sure that's what they're looking to see, that and that we're not tolerating rebellion."

"Things are peaceful on Arus. They were when I left and I would've been told if there was a problem," Allura asserted.

"As would _I_." Zarkon sneered down at her and Lotor. "Or did you forget that I've got Haggar there keeping an eye on things?"

The mention of the old witch led Cossack to sigh slightly. "It's a shame she's got to stay put there. I could use some of her input on the Pollux mission in the works."

Allura looked from Cossack to Lotor. "What Pollux mission is this?"

Before Lotor could answer, Zarkon did. "Taking back the red lion and dealing with your troublemaking pilot friend and his pals, what else?"

"Let's not get into this _now_; Haggar isn't even here," Lotor interjected. "Father, how long is this Drule captain staying and what is he planning to do?"

"You mean what is _she_ planning to do," Merla's haughty voice interjected from the doorway. She gestured to Captain Twila at her side. Lotor, Allura, and Cossack all turned toward them while Zarkon regarded them from where he sat upon his throne.

Cossack smiled appreciatively. "Hey, they're making captains pretty nice looking over on Drule these days."

"Do us all a favor and keep your oafish thoughts to yourself, Cossack, lest I decide to pass it on to your wife," Merla said as she strode over to join them at the foot of Zarkon's throne.

The commander's lips curled back a bit. "I was just paying her a complement. No offense intended. Welcome back, your majesty." He failed to keep a twinge of sarcasm out of his voice as he addressed the queen. He then looked to Twila. "Welcome to Doom, Captain."

"Thanks. You must be Fleet Commander Cossack… 'the Terrible', right?"

Cossack nodded proudly. "That's me."

"I've heard a lot about you." She smiled. "Strange, when you talk I could swear you sound just like my fiancé."

"Lucky guy."

"Too bad he gets on my nerves after about ten minutes alone with him," Twila said with a shrug, and turned to Lotor and Allura. "Prince Lotor," she said with a polite bow to Doom's prince, "an honor to meet you." She then eyed Allura, who struck her as surprisingly girlish and young for a woman who had by reputation fought so fiercely as a part of Voltron and as the pilot of the blue lion. "You must be Princess Allura of Arus." She bowed to her as well. "The Drule Council extends their welcome to the empire to you, and hopes that you're adjusting well to life in our number."

Something about the Drule captain's words struck Allura as cold despite their warm wishes. Perhaps it was because she knew that the Drule hierarchy cared little for her or Arus, only for what use they could get from her or her world. The hypocrisy made it hard to believe in any sincerity. "Yes, thank you," she replied politely, willing the uncomfortable encounter to end.

Fortunately for her it did, for Twila turned and bowed most deeply and respectfully to Zarkon a moment later. "King Zarkon, I was told to bring you the emperor and council's most wholehearted congratulations on your recent accomplishments and their sincerest wishes for total victory in the near future."

"Well thank you," Zarkon replied, his tone cordial and warm although those that knew him well could tell that it held a healthy dose of mockery for her superiors as well. "You may tell them when you see them that I'm glad they enjoyed the show I put on for them. I intend to do the empire's reputation proud in the near future."

Merla smiled and ascended the stairs to join Zarkon's side. "You rarely do anything less."

"I do my best," he said with a grin. "So tell me, Captain, what are your plans? Marshal Keezor's interested in the state of things on Arus?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Things are going quite well there, actually, at least according to my _dear_ daughter-in-law here. I'm sure she would be more than happy to fill you in on all the details of her charming little world and its integration into my kingdom."

When she felt both Zarkon and Twila's eyes on her, Allura nodded. "My people are adjusting."

"So I hear," Twila said. "I've been asked to visit it personally. I'd like to meet with your court in the Castle of Lions and extend the empire's welcome to them. Marshal Keezor insisted that I do so personally on his and the viceroy's behalf."

Zarkon smirked. "The viceroy." The sarcasm in his tone was more overt that time. "How is dear Throk these days?"

"I don't report directly to him, but he seems to be well."

"Oh yes, he's as delightful as ever," Merla chimed in with a knowing smile, and cast Zarkon a sly look. "He had plenty to say about you."

That time Zarkon chortled out loud. "Did he? Good press? Or at least entertaining bad press?"

Merla placed her hand upon Zarkon's, her elegant and manicured fingers making quite a contrast to his dark blue scaled ones. "He said you had exquisite taste in women."

"And that I do," Zarkon replied, mirroring Merla's look with a smug smile of his own. At the throne foot, Lotor glowered and Cossack fought the urge to make a gagging noise, while Allura mulled over the notion of Coran, Nanny, and Pidge playing host not only to Doom visitors, but now Drule Empire representatives. She did not relish breaking that news to them, even if it was only a minor issue in comparison to more recent ones. Still, Allura wished that just once she could contact her friends at home with good news.

"When will you be going to Arus?" Allura asked Twila.

"Whenever someone from Doom can offer me an escort there," the captain replied.

"That shouldn't take long to arrange," Zarkon said, and looked pointedly at Lotor and Allura. "I assume you'd have no objection to taking Twila home to Arus with you, would you, Allura?" He noticed that Lotor's frown deepened at the way he volunteered his wife without his consent, but his sullen displeasure was immaterial to him. Allura, on the other hand, brightened the slightest bit at the notion of returning to Arus.

"Of course." Her tone did not betray either the elation she felt at the notion of seeing her friends and loved ones at home again or the apprehension of taking a Drule representative along with her.

"Lotor," continued Zarkon, "see to it that this trip is arranged first thing tomorrow, and notify Haggar that she can return on the flight back. You will take her place and begin establishing your position at the princess' side as her husband and their ruler." He eyed them both meaningfully. "I believe that by Arusian law and tradition, you're now eligible to be crowned their true Queen, Allura, since you're married to a prince of royal blood. See to it that your court crowns you and Lotor as appropriate as soon as feasible once you're back."

Allura straightened stiffly. "Arus is still _my_ world, Zarkon. I don't need you to tell me how to run it."

Zarkon glared back at her, irritated by her impudence and at Lotor's silence in not correcting her for talking back to him in his throne room. "Obviously you do," he said coldly, "for if you didn't need my advice you'd have set it in motion already. Unless of course you have and just forgot to pass it along to me or Haggar?" He eyed her expectantly.

Uncomfortable and resentful under his stare, Allura only replied with all the diplomacy and grace she could muster, "I'll be crowned in due time. Coran's never let me or my father down in his duty to the throne."

"Excellent," Merla said with a pleasant smile for the Arusian princess and Lotor beside her. "After all, the sooner you're recognized as the true and legitimate queen of Arus, and Lotor as your consort ruler, the more secure your people will feel. Soon the presence of the people of Doom and the Drule Empire on their world will be second nature to them, and this tension will just be an unpleasant memory." She descended from Zarkon's side to approach Allura. "Do let us know when it will take place. If I can't make it there myself, I'd at least like to send you one of my best personal stylists to help you look as radiant as possible on your special day."

"Thank you, Merla."

"Yes, it's most generous of you," Lotor said, eyeing Merla in such a way that made it clear he believed she was just as sincere in her well-wishes as his father was.

Merla cast him a poisonously sweet smile. "Just doing my part as the reigning matriarch of the royal household."

Her deliberately chosen words had their intended effect, and Lotor's eyes darkened at the reminder of her station in his royal family at his father's side and above his. Even knowing that he would soon be a crowned king consort of Arus was not enough to quell the resentment he felt for Merla marrying onto the throne of Doom that he wanted so badly. Still, he refused to allow her to spoil things for him, and he vowed that when he got to Arus, he would enjoy it for all that it was worth. That, along with a vision of himself at Allura's side in their crowns as they beheld the people of Arus bowing before them, was enough to bring a smile back to his face. "I'll notify everyone that we'll depart at dawn," he said to Zarkon. "That'll give Captain Twila some time here to enjoy our hospitality for a night, and for me to tie up some loose ends. Cossack, I assume you'll see to it that my plans and orders are carried out in my absence?"

"Of course, Sire!" The commander bowed obediently to the prince.

"Good. I'll tell Haggar that you're looking forward to her return and help. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear that she's been missed," he said with sarcasm that largely went over Cossack's helmeted head.

* * *

Lotor's promise of hospitality to Captain Twila was sincere, and that evening a grand feast was set up for the royal family, visiting Drule, and the high members of their court. Aside from Cossack, that also included one of the fleet's high admirals that was on-planet, two of the highest ranking royal guardsmen, as well as two of the high priests of Darhin-Kal that were in the vicinity on business and one of the high seats to one of Doom's noble houses, Ardek of Ermov'diast, who had been seeing to business with the priests when the invite came. The hall their meal was served in was decked out in splendor, and fine food and drink filled the table atop polished gold and bejeweled plates and goblets. Attractive dancers clad in expensive silks and other finery swayed in tune to relaxing music on one side of the room, while attentive slaves waited along another wall to take empty plates from and refill the drinks of their masters.

Twila remained pleasant throughout the dinner, alternating between answering Zarkon's questions as they came and engaging in pleasant small talk as well as a bit of gossip with her hosts and their court. Naturally, the subject of Hazar came up, and when he became the butt of several jokes originating from Zarkon and Lotor, she could not help but laugh with them given that her own loyalties lay closer to Throk and Keezor's than Hazar's. Merla remained mostly quiet as Hazar was discussed, but she did not refrain from chortling or smirking at certain remarks at his expense. Allura was quiet throughout the meal, speaking only when spoken to, for she sympathized much more with Hazar than any of the others and felt incredibly out of place. She suspected that she would never feel at home on Doom, even if it was Lotor's home and they were cordial to her, and she loathed the way that Zarkon demeaned, belittled, and diminished her every time they interacted. It was a given that there would never be any love between her and her father-in-law, but she wished that he could be more respectful to her regardless. Of course, Zarkon felt much the same way about her in terms of respect—he felt he was far too tolerant of her Alliance-favoring views and boldness in her public questioning of him, but the recent victories over Voltron and their enemies still left him in what he considered a magnanimous mood, so he did not push it that far, and simply amused himself by showing her and everyone else just how naïve and foolish he felt she was.

Soon the evening wound down and the guests began to grow tired. The priests and Ardek were the first to retire, followed by High Admiral Iskeki. Twila was the next to state that she was tired, even as she leaned back in her comfortable chair having her shoulders rubbed by one of the attentive servants, a post-meal service that Lotor and his father also indulged in. "Understandable," Zarkon replied to her statement. "You've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow. Cossack, why don't you show Twila to a guest suite for the night? I trust you have the taste to pick out something appropriate for the Captain."

"Trusting that Cossack has taste? How many goblets of wine _did_ you have, Zarkon?" Merla teased the king while Cossack frowned.

Zarkon chortled and took a sip from his half-full goblet in spite of it. "Oh, he's not that bad, are you Cossack?"

All eyes at the table, even Allura's, glanced over at the commander for his reaction. He took the jab in good spirits, and assumed that the look of mirth on Twila's face was merely laughing with him. "Of course not. I'll show you right to the first class digs, Captain."

"Sounds great," Twila replied, and rose to her feet. "Let's go." She faced the rest of the table, focused centrally on Zarkon, and bowed. "Thank you, King Zarkon, Queen Merla, Prince Lotor, for your hospitality." She then joined Cossack's side.

"Anytime," Zarkon echoed, while Merla and Lotor both nodded politely to her. Twila followed Cossack out into the hall, while Allura took that as her cue to say good night herself. She set her golden fork down and placed her napkin primly on her plate, and one of the slaves hurried over and removed it almost before her hand was withdrawn in his haste to avoid Lotor's displeasure at a perceived insult to his bride.

"I could use some rest too," she said, and pushed back from the table. "Good evening."

Lotor rose immediately beside her. "In that case, I'll take my leave as well. Good night Father, Merla." He bowed as was expected, and followed Allura out into the hallway. Once they were alone in the corridor and walking together, he took her hand. "You were quiet tonight, Allura. Does this development of the Drules sending a representative to Arus bother you?"

"No more than anyone else that's been sent there to spy," she said somewhat sourly. "Captain Twila seems reasonable enough. They'll probably like her better than Haggar." She let out a hollow chortle. "Or you."

"The crowning—that's what's bothering you," Lotor guessed as they rounded a corner. "My father's implication that you were dragging your heels on taking your throne because you'd have to crown me as king beside you."

Allura sighed. "No, not exactly."

Lotor's brow rose. "No? Then what is it? You don't want to be crowned, even though you were born to be Queen of Arus?"

"No, I want to be queen, but…" Her voice trailed off for a moment. "I just always imagined it a little different than this. And I just hope that the people of Arus really do accept you. I have faith in them, but—"

"But not enough to be certain they will," Lotor finished for her. "After all, you're dreading just hearing your nanny and your advisor go on about it when you get back, right?" He gave her a pointed look as they stepped onto an elevator.

"No!" she protested, in such a way that it confirmed to Lotor that he was right.

"Yes," he countered. "I can see it in your eyes, Allura. You don't need to pretend that they don't badmouth me and poison you against me whenever they get the chance. They've told you that I'll harm you, that I'll go back on my word as soon it suits me, and that I'll terrorize your world and break your heart, if not your body and spirit if you displease me." She looked away as the elevator hummed on its way to their destination floor, and he let out an aggravated breath. "You don't need to deny it. Your body language confirms it."

They stepped out into the corridor and remained where they were for a moment while Allura faced him. "I meant it when I said I believed you love me, and that you'd be good to your word to me."

"But no matter how much you believe in me, you can't make the rest of your world do it," Lotor said, and took her hands in his while he regarded her with a wry smile. "At least not so soon. And _that's_ what wears on you." He squeezed the small and delicate fingers held in his. "If only I could make you understand how unimportant their opinions and their approval are. You rule them, Allura. Not the other way around."

"A good ruler cares what her—or his—people think and feel, because a good ruler does what's best for his or her people."

Lotor brought her hands to his and kissed them. "Ah, but sometimes people are foolish and don't have the foresight that their betters do, so they don't _know_ what's best. That's why we're chosen to rule over them. The gods make us their rulers because we're up to the challenge. If they were meant to rule, the gods would've had them born into greatness like us."

Allura's blue eyes looked up at him with curiosity. "Is that what you believe, that it's a divine right to rule, because you were born a prince?"

"Of course," Lotor replied as if the answer was obvious. "I've always known my destiny. It's how I knew from the instant I saw you that you were meant to be mine, and how I know that Father's throne will be mine."

"Then what about elected leaders, or commoners that marry into or earn a throne?" Allura challenged.

Lotor's eyes lit up with the debate. "I don't deny that sometimes the gods surprise us, and create someone exceptional from a humble background. But such rare individuals are the ones who stories are told about. And as for elections," he shrugged, "merely a different way for a culture to differentiate the nobility from the common. They seek out and lift their betters to their destined station."

Allura frowned, not entirely convinced by Lotor's viewpoint, but not interested in arguing it further either. Instead she glanced down the hall for a moment before turning back to him. "It's late. We should get to our rooms. Good night, Lotor."

As she turned to leave, she was surprised when he let go of her fingers only to grip her wrist and halt her from walking down the corridor that led to the suite of rooms he had offered to her for her own use. "I thought you would spend the night with me again, Allura. We're newly wed, but get to spend so little time alone together." He took a step closer and drew a finger along her cheek. "I treasure those intimate moments with you."

She offered him a weak smile. "I'm tired. I just want to get some rest before the trip back to Arus in the morning."

A mischievous twinkle shone in Lotor's eyes. "While I admit the sight of you in one of your lovely nightgowns is tempting, I _can _be enough of a gentleman to let you sleep beside me in bed without having you make love to me in it first."

His words inspired a crimson flush to rise to her cheeks. "It's not that, Lotor. I mean, you said it yourself back when we first… when I first came here as your wife," she said quietly. "I just need a little space tonight. That's all." She leaned up and kissed him kindly on the cheek. "We can… we can share a bed when we're back on Arus. I promise."

Although he was disappointed, Lotor did not press the issue, and contented himself with the visual of taking a newly crowned Allura as his queen in one of the Castle of Lions' royal bedrooms on the night to come. Perhaps her Nanny and that staunch diplomat would overhear her crying his name over and over again while he ravished her. "All right then." He stroked her hair with affection and a smile on his face that she had no idea was partially inspired by his imaginative fantasy. "Good night, my dear Allura. I'll see you in the morning on the ship. I may not see you before then, since like I told my father, I have things to wrap up here before I leave."

Smiling back at him, Allura bade him good night and made her way down the corridor toward her own set of rooms while he made the lonely walk to his. He had been looking forward to having Allura with him, and now that she was gone his disappointment showed, especially now that she was not there to distract him away from more sullen thoughts, such as Merla's needling and his father's condescension toward both Allura and him. While he could understand it to an extent with Allura, he highly resented his father treating him like he was stupid or foolish along with her. Allura was naïve, he did not deny that, but she was not stupid, and where she lacked vision or insight _he_ had more than enough to make up for it for them both.

Such were his thoughts as he passed by a window that overlooked a courtyard in one of the central parts of Castle Doom, an open patio that was walled in all around for several stories above it on all sides. He had just walked by it when he heard noises that gave him pause. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but the nature of it made him stop and turn back to look. A moan, a feminine one, with a telltale breathlessness to it that implied only one thing. The prince peered out the window, open with just a screen to ventilate the corridors, and saw one of Castle Doom's royal guardsmen—obviously off duty—half stripped and in the midst of having sex with a pretty Doomite girl of around Allura's age on a stone bench. The guardsman's helmet was tossed to the side with his jacket while his pants were down around his boots, and his short vanilla-colored hair was tousled into quite the mess by one of her distracted hands. The woman he was with had on a pretty dress that had been pulled down around her midsection at an angle from the top, exposing one breast that bounced in the moonlight that spilled down upon them as she bounced the same way on his lap. Her long dark hair was wild and loose about her shoulders as she threw her head back in pleasure, and while Lotor could see her face, he did not recognize her and thus had no idea if she was a common whore paid to please the guardsman who was having her, or if she was one of the nobility that often stayed in the castle as a part of the court that had taken up with the man. Regardless, Lotor found himself suddenly and regrettably envious of him, for it seemed very unfair to him that a mere guardsman was getting the same pleasures that he, the prince, had just been denied from his own wife.

He quelled the urge to bark a reprimand down at them chastising their indecency to ruin their interlude out of spite, and watched for a few more moments until he could stand it no longer. He took several steps in the opposite direction from where he had originally been headed, his intent not to go to Allura—though he certainly would have liked to—but to his harem, where he could easily have the satisfaction that his bride had denied him. The harem girls had not been disbanded or redistributed to other service; Allura had not voiced any complaints of his keeping them as of yet, and some of them had been the same dancers that entertained them at dinner. He expected that Allura would not approve of him having a slave girl satisfy the needs she had not, and for a moment that only served to motivate him further to do just that. Perhaps if she did not like it, she would be more amenable to his affection in the future, he thought in a wild moment, but as he walked on, he found himself, much to his own surprise, reconsidering.

Lotor paused as he reached a turn in the corridor, and only stared down the hall that led to his harem girls' suite. Despite his burning desire for a woman to please him, the nearer he drew, the less satisfying the notion of demanding that one of his ladies pleasure him seemed. Unfortunately, no matter which girl he thought of, or what erotic and enticing position he imagined her—or even more than one "her"—in with him, it did not appeal as much as having it be Allura. "Damn it!" Lotor swore, and then he turned sharply on his heel and stormed back toward his suite to spend the night alone. As he passed by the window a second time, the sounds of the clandestine coupling still echoed through the screen, irritating him further that they did not have the decency to even have their interlude be a two-minute quickie. He let out an unintelligible growl of frustration as he strode past, and tore a tapestry off the wall in protest before he stomped up the short stairwell to his rooms and barged through the golden door, which he slammed behind him.

* * *

The mood in Zarkon and Merla's bedroom was less tempestuous. Although neither Doom's king nor the pink-haired queen held any illusions that their union was one made in any sort of love, they had a mutual understanding that the relationship would have the physical component of a marriage. It was not necessarily exclusive, at least in that neither particularly cared if the other had relations with pleasure slaves or inferiors that caught their eye, so long as no genuine infidelity that would lead to a conflict of interests on either side took place. Since it was Merla's first night back in Castle Doom for some time, the king of Doom and his bride shared a bed after they retired for the night, and now lay in the afterglow of it pleasantly talking matters of state.

"He was that whiny?" Zarkon chortled to Merla, who was absently brushing a tangle out of her unbraided hair.

"Oh yes, dreadfully so," Merla said. "Apparently he's been that way for a while. Twila confided to me that most of the upper echelon comes away from talking to him feeling like they've been banging their head into a rock wall."

Zarkon leaned back against a pillow. "They should try arguing with Lotor sometime," he quipped back, and then turned toward her with a curious look. "So what do you think of our visiting Drule representative? How much of Throk's woman is she?"

Merla set her hairbrush down. "Not as much as you might think." When Zarkon's eyebrow rose at that remark, she went on to say, "Don't get me wrong. She's loyal to the Drules and the emperor through and through. She'll follow their commands, and I'm sure she'll dutifully report to them what they want to know. But that aside… she has her own personal issues with some of them."

"Oh?"

Nodding, Merla continued, "The old 'boys' club' of Drule has made her feel as though she has to prove herself. She's seen her male peers promoted before her and advance higher, get more favors and prestige and credit, and as a capable woman, she can't stand that." She paused and shifted on the bed. "Not that I can blame her, of course. In her shoes, I'd be furious too."

"Heh," mused Zarkon. "Fortunately for you, you were born a queen."

"Yes. And fortunately for Twila, I rather like her. She's got spirit, and she's bright. I think she could be useful to us. The more she tells the Drules what we want them to hear, the less of a nuisance they'll be to us, interfering and spying."

Zarkon turned his head toward her. "True, but that also means if she's on Arus, we have to make sure Lotor gets that princess of his well enough in line that Twila has only good things to report. He'd _better _be up to it, and not make me regret leaving him there with no baby-sitter."

"We can hope that now that he has his trophy Allura, he won't have any unfortunate lapses in judgment." Merla shook her head. "A pity that he had to set his sights on such a troublesome girl. She's a pretty thing, and sweet, but stubborn in her ideals to a worse extent than Hazar." She glanced down at her fingers, idly inspecting her manicure in the lighting of the bedchamber. "I hope she has the stomach to rule alongside a man like Lotor for the long term. I think I can direct her some, but it'll take time, and it's hard to get near her without him running after her like a guard dog."

"Paranoid and jealous. Hopefully he'll get over that once he's worn the novelty of 'frail and innocent virgin' out of her," scoffed Zarkon.

Merla smirked along with him, and then laid down beside him on the pillows propped up on one arm, her lithe body positioned in a deliberately tantalizing pose as much for Zarkon's amusement as her own in vain enjoyment of being looked upon as a thing of beauty. "I did have a thought about how we might gain a little more influence with her, and gain her trust, which is no mean feat given how she feels about us."

Smiling appreciatively at Merla's provocative wiles, Zarkon replied, "I'm all ears."

"My talk with Twila today got me to thinking how much we ladies relax around sympathetic female company. I know it's much the same with men, of course, after all look at how many strong friendships form among those who serve together or are schooled together in youth. That made me think of how heavily your and Lotor's court is dominated by men. Aside from me and Haggar, there are few women that are a constant presence. Yes, there are some high priestesses and of course the ladies amongst the high seats of your nobility, but they only turn up when their business demands it. And Allura is wary of me and Haggar, and even if she hadn't had reason to be, Haggar is hardly the type that fosters warm and fuzzy feelings of friendship."

At that Zarkon laughed out loud. "The old witch's off-putting manner is one of the things I like about her."

"She has her moments," Merla conceded, "but I was thinking that perhaps if I recruited some of your noblewomen to our court here, I could not only provide some loyal eyes and ears that might befriend Princess Allura where we have trouble gaining her trust, but that it would also help establish my position here on Doom as your wife a little more firmly. After all," she said with a pointed look, "while I know you appreciate me, many of your nobility barely know me beyond my reputation as queen of the Seventh Kingdom."

"And some of them don't trust you because of how the marriage to Lotor fell though, or how you sided with the Voltron Force with him against me," Zarkon said bluntly.

"That too," Merla admitted.

Zarkon remained silent for a moment as he considered her suggestion, and then gave a slow nod of assent. "I don't see a problem with it. Balance isn't a bad thing, and the nobility will love a chance to give themselves an excuse to promote their own houses with the royal house." He met her eyes thoughtfully. "What criteria are you using to choose these women? What kind of titles would you give them?"

Merla smiled. "I thought I might call it my 'Court of Nine' and have a young, eligible woman from each of your nine high houses join it. Someone youthful, unmarried, who would enjoy the freedom to travel a bit and perhaps secure the interests of her house by being a pretty court ornament and confidant to me. I say 'unmarried' because marriage is such a tool to advance station, and you know that the nobles will be chomping at the bit to find someone important to marry their girls off to. Where better to meet such matches than at the royal court, where diplomats, governors, lesser royalty of citizen worlds, and the like often travel?"

Zarkon propped himself up. "And of course, should they find these matches, they'll have to be replaced, giving you more friends and allies, since certainly they'd want to stay in your good graces even if they did marry and go off planet."

"Exactly." Merla played her fingers against the satiny pillow. "And my little network of friends would grow and grow. Of course, as far as Princess Allura goes, she'd have all these ladies around her age to relate to. Ones to swap dresses with and do her hair with and pour her heart out to when Lotor infuriates her, who will listen with sympathetic ears when she's here on Doom or when we visit her on Arus."

"Which of course will get back to us."

"Of course." Grinning, Merla leaned closer and traced her finger along Zarkon's scaly chest. "So shall I go ahead and send word to Calilli to come here and help me get things underway?" she asked, naming her second-in-command on Eshai, a dwarfling woman that she trusted implicitly.

Lulled into agreeability by the pleasant touch and the nice view of Merla's naked body in front of him, Zarkon gave a distracted nod of assent as he indulged himself in a caress of her silken skin. "Knock yourself out, my dear."

**The End**


End file.
